


take me with your constant shame

by peaceoutofthepieces



Series: when I live my dream (please be there to meet me) [4]
Category: WTFock | Skam (Belgium)
Genre: Fluff, I'm Bad At Tagging, M/M, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Romance, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-16
Updated: 2020-02-16
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:06:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22752961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peaceoutofthepieces/pseuds/peaceoutofthepieces
Summary: And like Lucas said, he’s a lover. He wouldn’t necessarily consider himself aromantic, or hewouldn’t have, pre-Robbe. For Robbe, he may have slightly changed his opinion. Robbe would probably call him a romantic, and if he did, Sander wouldn’t protest. Butloveris a definition he himself can one hundred percent get behind. And Valentine’s Day is a day for lovers—and therefore a day for him.
Relationships: Sander Driesen/Robbe IJzermans
Series: when I live my dream (please be there to meet me) [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1622431
Kudos: 71





	take me with your constant shame

**Author's Note:**

> Just Sobbe’s Valentine’s date, a couple days late. It was posted on time on tumblr ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> Still to go with my social media AU on tumblr on @peaceoutofthepieces!! But it should still be okay read on it’s own.

Sander needs this to be perfect. 

He’s always been a perfectionist, always needs to execute each and every one of his ideas beyond his best ability, and it’s got him into more than a few downward spirals of disappointment and self-hatred. It’s something he still needs to work on (that’ll probably never actually be fixed) and a dangerous mindset to be in and he knows that. He knows that some of his perfect goals are unreachable. Impossible for his young mind and simple mortal state. 

But _this_ has to be perfect. 

Because this is for Robbe. 

Sander’s been planning and organizing all week (longer) and all the intricate measures he’s taken and hiding from Robbe he has done is about to be worth it. Everything so far seems to be in place, and he’s proud, but he isn’t letting his guard down yet. He’s aware anything could go wrong at any moment and he has to be prepared to stop that from happening. He can’t let one thing slip out of place, because he’s designed this night specifically to make Robbe happy. All he wants is to make Robbe happy. 

Especially now, after their last disaster date. He wants to make Robbe happy now more than ever. 

And he’s always been pretty intent on Robbe’s happiness. 

And like Lucas said, he’s a lover. He wouldn’t necessarily consider himself a _romantic_ , or he _wouldn’t have_ , pre-Robbe. For Robbe, he may have slightly changed his opinion. Robbe would probably call him a romantic, and if he did, Sander wouldn’t protest. But _lover_ is a definition he himself can one hundred percent get behind. And Valentine’s Day is a day for lovers—and therefore a day for him. 

Milan lets him in on his way out, giving him a once over and a low whistle. Sander rolls his eyes at him, but it boosts his confidence a little. “Someone cleans up nice.”

“Are you saying there’s something wrong with how I dress?” Sander says, teasingly affronted. He’s not dressed much differently than usual. His black jeans, boots, and leather jacket are all safely in place. The only difference is that instead of his usual designed tee, he’s wearing a dark grey button down shirt. 

Milan pinches his cheek. “You know you’re beautiful. You don’t need me to tell you. Besides,” he adds, nodding to the apartment, “I’m sure baby Robbe will.”

“I’ll what?”

Sander’s heart flaps around his chest with all the excitement of a puppy welcoming its owner. Robbe shoots him a bright grin, and his eyes dragging over Sander’s body set him on fire. Milan’s once over was appraising; Robbe devours him. His confidence leaps and he settles slightly, overcome for a moment with the reminder that Robbe in himself is perfect, and it requires very little effort from Sander. 

Milan gives Sander a look that suggests he knows all the dirty deeds Sander has planned, and he shoots him a wink before planting a kiss on Robbe’s cheek. Robbe’s sound of protest is drowned out by Milan’s, “Have fun, cutie,” as he bounds out the door and leaves them in peace.

“He’s in a good mood,” Sander muses. 

Robbe rolls his eyes, but there’s a fond smile on his face. “He usually is. But I think he has a date. Like an actual one. Not with someone he matched on Grindr.”

Sander raises his brows. “Good for him. He deserves it.” Robbe pulls a face, and Sander will let him pretend all he wants, because they both know how much he actually cares about the other man. Robbe reaches for him at the same time Sander steps into his space, and their kiss is a silent agreement—they can be happy for Milan tomorrow. Tonight is theirs. 

Robbe’s lips on his almost make him forget that he has a whole elaborate plan for them, and he pulls make a little sooner than usual. Robbe’s tiny whine makes him change his mind briefly, and he swoops in to kiss him once more before taking a resolute step back, stroking his thumb over Robbe’s cheek. “Hi,” he says. 

“Hi,” Robbe mocks, bumping their noses, and Sander is so very gone. “Am I underdressed?”

Sander takes in his light grey sweater and black jeans and shakes his head. “Overdressed, if you ask me.” Robbe huffs a laugh and shoves him away—only to tug him right back in. “No, you’re good. You always look perfect,” he adds, with a sneaky kiss to the rising blush on Robbe’s cheek. 

Robbe smiles bashfully. “Okay, but _you_ look…”

Sander grins, has to kiss him again, and then pulls him towards the door. “Okay, okay, come on. We’re already off schedule.” 

“Oh? Do you have a lot planned?”

“Do you remember what I said?”

Robbe sighs, like the whole thing is a unnecessarily difficult task. “Yeah, yeah. I’m ready to be mindblown.” 

Sander’s grin only widens. 

~^~

Robbe lights up as soon as he realises they’re going to the tunnel, and Sander’s hopes lift slightly. His goal, mainly, is reminiscence for the purpose of realising their growth, their budding feelings from their first date recaptured amidst the all-consuming love they currently share. Sander had wanted to wow then, only realising later that it was influenced by the subtle stem of a mild bout of mania beginning to bloom, and still not regretting a second of it. It had made him less careful, more extravagant, and nothing more, and it only left him truer to his feelings, louder about them than he would’ve been otherwise. It had worked in winning Robbe over, and there was nothing he could regret about that. 

This time, though, Sander made sure to put in work so that he could do things right. When they make it to the entrance to the pool, Robbe trails a few confused feet behind him until Sander brandishes a key. It only turns Robbe entirely incredulous, and he gapes at Sander when he says, “I thought ahead enough to ask this time.” Robbe only continues to stare while Sander opens the door, and then Sander reaches out his hand and asks, “Come.”

Robbe wraps his fingers around his and squeezes, and Sander leads him inside. This time, Robbe shivers but doesn’t give a single complaint about the cold. Sander had told him to wear his usual brown coat and hadn’t managed to convince him to add a scarf (on the ridiculous basis Sander wasn’t wearing one himself) but on their way out the door he’d thought to request, “Maybe a beanie?” with possibly too much hope. But now his boyfriend is extra adorable and extra cosy, so at least it worked. 

In front of the pool, Sander has left a pile of blankets and a picnic basket. The pool lights form a dim glow, just more than enough to see by and casting the prettiest shadows over Robbe’s profile. His lips are pulled up in a disbelieving smile, parted just slightly. “Like it?” Sander asks eventually, barely more than a whisper. 

Robbe looks at him and smiles fully, pulling him in with a single tug of their still-joined hands. He kisses Sander sweetly, adoringly. “I love it. I love you.”

Sander’s smiling too much to kiss him anymore. He hugs him close instead and says, “I love you too. So much that I won’t even make you swim this time.”

Robbe raises his brows. “That’s a lot.”

“Mmhm,” Sander hums, regaining enough control over his lips to press them to Robbe’s once more. “Come on. This is only the beginning of what I have planned for us.”

Robbe grins and lets himself be set in place on one of the blankets. Sander tucks another around Robbe’s shoulders and the last around his own, settling in close as he produces the main dish from the basket. Robbe brightens. “You made croques.”

“I tried to keep them warm, but, you’re distracting.”

“Wait, did you come leave them here before coming to get me?” Robbe gives the food a clearly more dubious look. 

Sander huffs a laugh. “I had a little help. Noor is a very good friend.”

It only adds more fuel to Robbe’s smile. “I’ll have to thank her, then.” Sander holds a croque up to his lips and feels his stomach twist as Robbe takes a bite. 

Sitting there with Robbe pressed against his side, sharing food and the warmth of the blankets, Sander has never felt more content. He’d been falling for Robbe for so long, and falling hard, but this is where he knew he’d fallen in love. When Robbe had watched him strip down to nothing with bare surprise and had followed him anyway, accepting all of Sander right from that moment, Sander had been in love. It had exploded in his chest then, leaving him breathless and aching and needy. Now it’s wrapped around every single atom of his body, keeping him safe and warm and always being there to remind him he’s never alone.

Last year, he spent Valentine’s Day with Britt, wondering why he couldn’t stop feeling like he’d rather be spending it alone. This possibility hadn’t yet crossed his mind—of spending this day with someone who loved him unconditionally, who’d seen him at his best and his worst and accepted both without a word, someone he knew would move mountains for him at his simple request. 

He had never let himself imagine someone like Robbe. He can’t imagine ever having lived without him. 

Robbe presses closer to his side and touches his fingers to his cheek, turning Sander’s head to look back at his smile. “Hey. You okay?”

Sander rests their heads together and tightens his arm around Robbe’s waist. “I just love you a lot.” He can feel Robbe’s breath gust over his lips, and then there’s a soft mouth covering his and gentle fingers in his hair. Sander lets Robbe lead them and feels an inexplicable tightens in his chest, one that crawls up this throat and makes his eyes burn, and he grips Robbe tighter to anchor himself. Sometimes, he still can’t believe this is real. Sometimes, he feels like crying when he remembers it is. 

He has to pull away and clear his throat when it becomes too much for him, and at Robbe’s pout he gives the simple excuse of, “The night isn’t over yet. There’s still another place I want to take you.”

Robbe gives him one of his favourite looks, brow furrowed and eyes narrowed and smile still in place, like he doesn’t know what to expect but suspects Sander’s up to no good and is perfectly ready to go along with it. Sander gives him his most innocent grin in return, pulling him to his feet and fixing his beanie over his ears. They pack up, Sander simply shoving the blankets in the now empty basket, and then they’re leaving once more, Sander locking the door behind him. 

Robbe gives up questioning Sander after the first five minutes, but the curious glances continue until Robbe stops dead in the middle of the street, eyes widening in comically slow motion, and Sander holds his breath. He stares, blinks, and restarts, pedaling over to where his gaze had caught, too entranced to spare Sander a glance. 

He stops and drops his bike a few meters away from the wall, mouth dropped open, and Sander waits a few feet away. 

“Sander,” Robbe breathes, finally, after an eternity, and Sander can’t tell what he’s thinking. “You—you did this?”

“That depends,” Sander hedges. “Do you like it?”

On the side of the building, sprayed in the most intense, bright colours Sander owned, is Robbe. His face sits inside a heart, fragmented and cracked at the edges but undeniably _open_ , letting through every bit of Robbe’s light and holding him inside, presenting its love for him in return. He’d shown the drawing to Robbe, weeks ago, in another life. This had been the idea in his mind, but he hadn’t been sure he’d ever have the guts to do it. He hadn’t known just how far his love went. 

“How?” Robbe turns to look at him, eyes still wide and sparkling, and everything in Sander settles at once. “Sander, this—what?”

Sander reaches for him, and Robbe takes his hands instantly, letting himself be reeled in even as his eyes drift back to the wall. “I did it last night. I—I know that it’s a lot and you probably think I’m crazy but I needed everyone to know. I love you and I needed to let you know. They’ll probably remove it eventually, so if you don’t like it—“

“Sander,” Robbe cuts him off, his hands raising to cup Sander’s cheeks. He shakes his head in disbelief, and the pure, unfiltered love in his eyes is the best sight Sander has ever seen. “No one has ever loved me this much.”

Sander finally releases his breath. “I do,” he says quietly. “I love you even more than this.”

Robbe kisses him, and this time they take much longer to stop. 

~^~

When they get back to Sander’s flat, Sander has one last surprise ready. If Noor was able to finish it for him. 

He guides Robbe to the bedroom and, on opening the door, lets out a sigh of relief. Robbe’s breath hitches at his shoulder, and Sander looks around to see that the same look of awe hasn’t moved from his face, only seeming to grow with each new discovery. Sander has covered the floor with a delicate spread of rose petals, and organised another bundle on the bed into the shape of a heart. Candles sit on the bedside lockers, just recently lit, with more on top of Sander’s drawers and desk. Robbe’s hands wrap tightly around his arm and when Sander looks, his eyes are wet. 

“Hey,” he says softly, laughing slightly. “Robbe. I painted you a mural and you’re crying at flowers and candles?”

Robbe shoves him lightly, shaking his head and wiping a hand over his cheek. His voice is almost hoarse when he speaks, choked with emotion, and this is what Sander had been looking for. This means that it’s perfect. “It’s just...All of it. You did so much, and I—“ He cuts off, breath too shaky, and then he lets out a tiny laugh. “Sorry.”

Sander shakes his head back. He raises his hands to Robbe’s cheeks this time, gently wiping away the tears with his thumbs. “I wanted you to feel it. I wanted you to be happy.”

Then, finally, that brilliant smile is back, and Robbe’s folding himself into his arms and tucking his face into his neck. “Have I mentioned that I love you a little bit?”

“Maybe once,” Sander replies, grinning, as he presses a kiss to Robbe’s temple. “I think I’ve also mentioned that I love you too. Do you want me to show you?”

The flush that covers Robbe’s cheeks is lovely as he takes another glance at the bed, at the rose petals and candles and Sander and says, in a stumble, “We’ve done...but we haven’t...I don’t even know if that’s what you were planning, but I want—I want you to know that I want to. If you do.”

Sander drags him into a kiss, and this time they don’t stop.


End file.
